Reasons Not to Like
by Scarlet Secret
Summary: The many and varied reasons why Jean Innocent disliked Laura Hobson. Disliked only because Jean thought hate was such a strong word.
1. Chapter 1

1. Their introduction.

The first time they meet no one tells her precisely who she is. She is told this is Laura Hobson and they shake hands and become exceedingly pleasant in the way that newly introduced people are and for a moment there's almost the chance that they might be friends but then her sodding younger sister rings and manages to still be ruining her social life despite her being close to entering her fourth decade and three hundred miles away.

Jean shakes her head and rolls her eyes and Laura smiles in understanding until she hangs up the phone and makes an ill-chosen comment about spinsters living vicariously through their sisters. The change in the other woman's demeanour was such that Jean wished for a black hole to swallow her up but unfortunately all she got was a paper thin smile before Laura retreated to greet the Sergeant as new as Jean was whose name she couldn't recall. An older Sergeant who Jean was yet to meet leapt to his feet to fetch Hobson a seat and she settled into their apparently very humorous conversation.

For a split second Jean would have sworn blind that one of the DI's looked over at her before a particularly loud bout of laughter and she couldn't help but feel it would be a while before Hobson let her blunder go.


	2. Chapter 2

2. Her bloody car.

The first winter she spends in Oxford she doesn't anticipate the snow. It doesn't help that this is apparently the thickest blanket the city of spires has endured in about a decade but Jean still wants to kick herself for being so bloody naive. It's not like she's never been here before after all.

And so she finds herself trudging home in wildly inappropriate shoes, her car long since having given up the ghost and not a taxi for miles, with the snow falling still more and the cold sending her extremities numb. Jean tried to focus on the possibility that her husband has reached their home and heated the damned place already but she considers this unlikely and so just focuses on being dry – it's a much more attainable goal even if it does look like it's going to take her another hour to achieve it.

There's not a car on the road, it seems like she's not the only one that's been forced to go on foot so at least there's no imminent possibility of being run over and Jean wishes dearly that she'd tried harder to make some friends in Oxford, anyone with a decent car at any rate.

As if hearing her thoughts a massive bulk of shiny silver that Jean's positive she's seen before but couldn't quite place came roaring towards her. It stopped next to her and the passenger-side window rolled down. Jean had a brief image of all the women she had seen on CCTV being abducted in this manner but it quickly passed when she looked inside and saw Dr Laura Hobson smirking out at her.

"Hello, are you alright?"

"Fine, just freezing to death."

She heard a cough and looked into the back seat where DS Hathaway was wrapped in about four blankets, including one that Jean is sure is foil and he looked more than a little shocked to see her.

"Ma'am, I thought someone would have taken you home ages ago."

"No such look, forced to walk I'm afraid, wish I'd thought to get one of these," she patted the car lightly and thought it was a bit rich that Hobson looked annoyed at the touching when the vehicle was being pounded with snow and hail.

They were all silent for a moment, Jean still swatting snowflakes off her face and Hathaway looking everywhere but at her sodden demeanour.

"Jean, for god sake get in, I'm offering you a lift here and you're being terribly dense about taking the hint."

Feeling her face flush and hoping the other would put it down to the cold she pulled open the door and climbed into the blessedly heated car.

"Thank you so much, this is really good of you."

She hated gushing so much but had a feeling that Dr Hobson rather enjoyed feeling like the good Lady Bountiful and was doing this only so Jean would owe her one in future.

"Where do you live?"

"Other side of Cowley, hope it's not too far?"

Laura looked slightly smug.

"This car has survived a dozen winters in Oxford, a trip to Cowley and back won't see her off."

Jean bit her lip and noticed in the wing mirror that Hathaway was smirking slightly to himself. She filed it away to ask about later.

Twenty minutes later they had covered a great deal more ground than Jean thought possible given the increasing density of the snow outside and next to her she was slightly disconcerted to hear Hobson muttering under her breath to what Jean could only assume was the car.

As they approached her home Jean felt relief overcome her. Two streets away the car ground to a halt.

Given past dealing Jean expected Hobson to be calm and controlled about the situation and so was quite surprised when instead the Doctor began hitting the steering wheel and shouting abuse at the engine.

Eventually the smaller woman seemed to lose energy.

"Erm...Doctor we're very close to my house, both of you are welcome to stay the night if you'd like?"

Hathaway had the good graces to smile at her and accept politely. Hobson still had her head buried in arms that were leaning heavily on the steering wheel.

Jean got out of the car and shut the door quickly, feeling Hobson's mood would not be improved by her interior getting damp. On the other side she heard Hathaway's door shut and heard him prying the Doctor off the steering wheel – if she'd been feeling a bit more cutting Jean would have laughed at the sound of Hobson's weak protestations about leaving her car behind in the cold as Hathaway managed to drag her from the driver's seat but instead she grabbed Hathaway's bag from his hand, allowing him to steer the Doctor along.

Slowly they made their way to Jean's house and the Super was pleased to notice when she got inside that the heating must have come automatically. She felt the snowflakes melting down her neck and suppressed a shudder. The other two seemed to be appreciating the heat just as much.

"Right, well come through to the living room, I'll see what food we have in."

Hathaway nodded gratefully and began removing his blankets and coat. Hobson seemed to have regained some of her senses.

"Jean, could you point me towards your bathroom?"

"Upstairs, third on the right. I'm ever so sorry about your car, can it be fixed?"

"Fixed?" Hobson looked an unusually aggressive expression.

"Yes the engine, the cold won't have hurt it too badly I hope?"

"It's not the engine Jean, it just ran out of petrol. My fault completely, there's nothing wrong with the car."

Hathaway quickly jumped into the conversation.

"I don't think the Governor was suggesting there was anything wrong with your car Doctor."

Hobson deflated. As far as Jean could tell her Sergeant had just saved her from getting attacked in her own house and as the Doctor vanished upstairs like an especially sulky teenager Jean turned to Hathaway with a raised eyebrow.

"Explain."

"No one speaks ill of her car."

His ominous pronouncement was the last they spoke about it for that night.

A week later when the snow had more or less cleared Jean ambled through the car park at the restaurant they were having the work party and Laura's Lexus appeared in front of her, running as smoothly as though it were new and shinier than ever. The Doctor greeted her pleasantly enough but her eyes never left the keys in Jean's hands and the Super got the distinct impression that she was assessing their scratching potential.

Jean found out later from Hathaway that the car had been treated to a complete service inside and out and no expense had been spared in ensuing the engine was perfect. On her way out Jean had to drop her own car keys in her bag less she be tempted.


	3. Chapter 3

3. Her brothers.

When they had turned up down the pub on one of the few occasions that Jean managed to socialise with her staff they had been boisterous and charming. They mocked their big sister but spent the night glaring at any man she spoke to and whilst one pontificated about Virgil with James the other talked football with Robbie and Jean thought it doubly unfair that on top of having near perfect little brothers to boss around Laura also had James and Robbie.

Jean wouldn't have hated their existence if it weren't for two things.

The first was that one of them, she thinks it's the elder but they were so identical it could have been either, had flirted with her outrageously all night and she has a sneaking suspicion that Laura had put him up to it.

The second was that when the twins brought a third round for everyone and started telling some fairly filthy but entertaining jokes to the mirth of the whole assembled crowd she was forcibly reminded that her older sister only rang her once every other month to complain about her husband and job and if she spoke to her younger one she was left with a sense of annoyance that only alcohol could combat.


	4. Chapter 4

4. Her sympathy.

Robbie knew of course.

Jean assumed that one of his many contacts in the prison service must have told him the news that Ginny Harris had decided to end her own life rather than stand trial but it was to his lasting credit that he didn't mention it directly, instead being somewhat over-helpful and respectful to such an extent that she had become suspicious and spoken to him.

His reaction had been predictably Robbie – an awkward hug, an offer to talk – but really utterly useless. So she left the office and his look of concern.

Half an hour later Hobson had appeared in her office with two cardboard cups that smelt wonderfully of tea and a packet of biscuits stuffed into the pocket of the jacket covering her scrubs.

"I take it Lewis has rung you."

"He has. He's worried about you Jean."

"Has he told you what happened?"

"Yes," Hobson put down her drinks, placing one of them closer to Jean, and sat on the other side of the desk. "I'm sorry."

Jean snorted humourlessly.

"Why? You saw what she did in more vivid detail than anyone."

"I'm not excusing her but I can sympathise with your loss."

Jean examined her face for moment and recognised that Hobson was trying, as they both had sporadically over the years, to offer an olive branch. Jean reached for the tea but changed her mind at the last minute and turned her face back to the computer screen she had been staring at all morning.

"Ligeia Willard didn't kill herself Doctor. How would you have felt if it had been one of your friends after all?"

Despite the harshness of Jean's words Laura still answered lightly.

"Devastated. But I wouldn't turn away the kind offer of tea and biscuits from another friend. Honestly Jean you can scare Robbie away with scary female emotions but I'm made of sterner stuff."

Jean felt her lips quirk slightly but suppressed the smile.

"Fine. Thank you for the tea. I'm fine, you can go now."

"Not a chance."

"Doctor-"

"I'm not going till you've had at least," she screwed up her face in mock thought, "five of these biscuits and drank all of your tea."

"I'm not a child."

"Then accept my help."

"Help...what? I don't need your help. There is nothing you can do to help. My best friend slit her wrists in a bloody prison cell last night and you think talking to me like I'm being a stubborn child is going to improve my mood?"

"Jean I'm s-"

"No you're bloody not. I know exactly what Robbie was thinking earlier, what everyone will think when they hear, one less murderer to pay for. Because it's exactly what I'd think if it had been anyone else."

Rationally Jean knew that it was unfair to vent on Laura but no matter how kind she was trying to be the other woman had still managed to provoke her.

"So when I leave tonight I'm going to drink as much wine as I'm able to carry home and when I come in tomorrow it'll be like nothing's happened and I don't need you for that."

"Jean, you know you shouldn't drink that much-"

"If you want to save someone go and see Robbie. I'm sure he'd love to have you fuss over him. Or make him jealous by flirting with Hathaway and yes, we do all know that you do that, either way, please get out of my office."

Unable to respond Laura finally got to her feet, reclaimed her own tea and with a piercing look that Jean couldn't hold the Doctor left.

Jean tossed the biscuits in the nearest drawer and ignored the kindness.


	5. Chapter 5

5. For always having the upper hand.

Jean was sure something was going on. Hathaway had been lolling around in the main office, seemingly haven forgotten that he had his own desk and office to retreat to, and it was beginning to look suspiciously like he was up to something.

Silently Jean left her own room and crept up behind him, careful not to make a sound – Hathaway was always more revealing when he was caught off-guard.

"James."

Sure enough his usual impassive demeanour betrayed his shock at her appearance and she pressed her advantage.

"Sergeant, has someone neglected to inform me that your office is out of action today?"

"No, Ma'am...Inspector Lewis asked not to be disturbed for a little while and I-"

"He asked not to be disturbed?"

"Yes Ma'am."

"And he's in there all by himself now is he?"

They both knew the answer but Jean found a sadistic joy in making him tell her.

"No Ma'am, he's conferencing with Doctor Hobson."

"I bet he is."

She stormed past him and reached the door to their office.

"Ma'am, perhaps it'd be best if we knocked first?"

He actually looked quite nervous and appeared to be raising his voice slightly more than was necessary and under any other circumstances Jean would have taken pity on him however in this particular moment she was in no mood to be contradicted by a Sergeant.

She wrenched open the office door to discover Lewis sitting in his chair while Dr Hobson sat on the arm, leaning heavily on Robbie's shoulder for support and glancing as intently at the computer screen as her DI was. Despite their innocent expressions and perfectly acceptable proximity, although in this regard Jean did register vaguely that they were physically closer than she had ever seen them be before, there was a hint of amusement in both their eyes and Lewis looked ever so slightly ruffled.

"Ma'am? Is everything alright?"

"Fine Lewis. Is there a new case?"

"Erm…not that I know of. But I'm keeping meself busy so I've no time to do speeches or conferences or anythin'."

Behind her Jean heard Hathaway stifle a laugh.

"I assumed there must be a body."

Laura, who had cottoned on to Jean's line of questioning long before Lewis, was looking at her defiantly and with thinly veiled triumph.

"No Jean, I'm here for a social visit, it is allowed so you needn't check the rule book in your desk."

"Just make it a short visit," she ignored Hobson and instead locked eyes with Lewis. "Alright?"

"Yes Ma'am."

Jean excused herself from the scene distractedly and tried to tell herself that Robbie was scruffy all the time and his undone top button and slightly lopsided tie meant nothing, however she could not deny the truth of her own eyes and the usually neat Doctor had most certainly had smudged lipstick and her undone buttons were showing off a great deal more cleavage than usual.

As she walked back to her own office and passed Hathaway Jean couldn't escape from the distinct feeling that she was being laughed at.


	6. Chapter 6

6. Because she suited every colour.

Laura's first reason was that brothers were not generally very helpful in picking out clothes to entice a man.

Her was that she had no female friends in Oxford and the few that she had anyway were scattered elsewhere. She cited Jean's wonderful eye for colour and told her she really did dress very well – except for the purple suit and Jean took pains to point out that she'd been forced into that.

These were the reasons that Laura had given her when she'd commandeered her on a Friday afternoon, suggesting that they go out the following afternoon for a bit of window shopping and Jean found herself so strapped for company that she agreed. And so, against all previous precedent, she found herself being dragged though the city-centre for an hour and half trying to find something that would entice Robbie Lewis.

"He probably won't even notice what you're wearing you know?"

"So I should turn up at the drinks naked? This is a police event Jean, I want compliments from Robbie not lewd come-ons from your underlings."

"Why is it when they've done something wrong they're _my _underlings?"

Laura laughed at her tone and held a pale green dress up against the other woman.

"Green suits you."

"This shade does, in dark green I look like moss."

"I wore dark green to my graduation ball. It was short, lacy, sleeveless and sort of poofed out around the hips and I wore it with about fifty rows of beads and long fingerless gloves – I can't be certain but I think Madonna might have been popular at the time."

Jean laughed and tried to picture it.

"You probably looked less of a state than I did. A pink tafeta monstrosity that my mother claimed _looks lovely on you darling_. I swore there and then that she wasn't getting anywhere near my wedding dress."

"Did you?"

"My mother is not to be trifled with. So we ran off to Gretna Green."

"You're joking!"

"Yes I am but wouldn't it have been wonderful?"

As she laughed Laura picked up a yellow summer dress that Jean took one look at before deciding against. She was halfway to warning the other woman when Laura held it against herself.

"I like this. What do you think?"

It was bright yellow. It was probably designed for somebody about twenty years older than them. It had no room for cleavage and was too long to show off legs. Yet against Laura it looked almost ridiculously attractive. The colour matched her hair and the little cornflowers brought out her eyes.

Jean found all the camaraderie they had been building up vanish in a moment of startling clarity that showed how unfair the world was.


End file.
